


Psychotic Conspiracy or: Twisted Permutations of Conspireshipping

by smutdouble



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Angstshipping - Freeform, Bronzeshipping, Deathshipping, M/M, Tendershipping, Thiefshipping, psychoshipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-02-12 06:49:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12953673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smutdouble/pseuds/smutdouble
Summary: Yami Marik and Yami Bakura are almost perfect for each other. But when the needs of one cannot be satisfied by the other, certain arrangements must be made.





	1. Psychoshipping

**Author's Note:**

> There's not much context for this. I wanted to experiment with psychoshipping, and it turned into a conspireshipping experiment. It's not going to be as dark as Hikari Menagerie, but it will be darker than Burnt S'mores, so... fair warning.

Roaches scattered when Bakura flipped the switch on the wall. He tossed the room key in the space where the television should have been and headed straight for the bathroom. He heard the one he'd come to call Ammut padding along behind him. Ammut loved this part. Bakura liked it, too, but he was less inclined to show his companion just how much. He stripped off his black hoodie, stretching his lean, pale torso slowly and deliberately. 

Ammut licked his lips as he unbuttoned his pants. His eyes crawled down Bakura's lithe back, lingering hungrily on the waist of the dark jeans clinging to the slim hips. Bakura sat on the edge of the tub to toe off his sneakers. His long, yankable hair fell almost the floor when he bent over. Ammut only stopped watching when he had to pull off his own shirt. 

Bakura rested his forearms on his thighs as he ogled Ammut in turn. Yes, his hair stuck out around his head like a lion. Yes, he had the wide mouth and dead eyes of a crocodile. But Bakura wouldn't be surprised to discover that he had the body of Ra himself. His eyes appreciated every inch of the rippling muscles, sliding to a stop only when they reached the bloody wrap around his leg.

He remembered the first time they'd enjoyed each other's flesh. He remembered yanking the loose khakis down the muscular thighs, letting the backs of his fingers graze over the tan skin. He remembered stopping after a few inches when he felt the rough material. He'd been more surprised and confused than disgusted or concerned when he saw the little flecks of dried blood. The mad being had also been confused, not understanding why Bakura had stopped. Then he'd laughed.

It's sort of like a cilice, he'd explained. A cilice for the god of pain. The bandage keeps the blood from dripping.

When Bakura had asked what in all the gods he was talking about, all he'd gotten was another laugh. Bakura had watched him unwind the bandages, as he watched him now. Underneath, he wore something rather like a garter, made of golden, barbed chainmail. A leather tie kept it firmly embedded in the tan flesh. Bakura's curious inquiry about how much it hurt had been met with another laugh and a growled assurance that it hurt a great deal indeed.

Bakura watched Ammut untie the leather knot and slowly peel the metal from his flesh. Air hissed between the dangerous teeth, but whether the hiss meant pain or pleasure was unclear. Sometimes it seemed the two were one and the same for Ammut.

As Ammut stepped into the shower, Bakura gathered the grungy thrift store clothes into a garbage bag for later disposal. One of the advantages of staying in seedy, dirty motels was the history of filth, almost guaranteed to mask anything incriminating that the pair of delinquents might track into the room.

“Bakura,” a bestial voice whined. Ammut was trying to behave, but his patience had limits.

Bakura turned to face the figure squirming obscenely beneath the spray. Even water couldn't tame that wild hair. Smirking, he stepped in front of Ammut and yanked the curtain shut. He filled his palms with cheap, nameless shampoo, and then sunk his fingers into the mass of gold. His fingers scrubbed roughly, yanking at knots and raking with nails. Ammut purred, tilting his head forward as Bakura's fingers worked around to the back.

Next he grabbed a white washcloth and used it to lather the solid, bronze chest. He scrubbed with his nails through the fabric, scouring the skin of the muscular arms and scarred thighs. The roughness probably wasn't necessary, but Ammut enjoyed it. Letting him enjoy it was the only way to get him to sit through these scrub downs. At least he hadn't killed anybody this time. There was no blood to scrub out of his skin. Or at least, any that wasn't his own.

Skin hot and tingling, Ammut couldn't wait much longer. He sank to his knees in front of his alabaster idol. His tongue curled under the head of Bakura's cock and pulled it into his mouth. Bakura wasn't as hard as Ammut yet, but that didn't really matter. He would be soon.

Bakura let out a surprised moan, pausing for a moment to watch. Then he scowled, yanked Ammut's mouth away, and slapped him. Ammut growled and tried to go for him again, resisting the grip Bakura had on his hair. Bakura just slapped him harder. “Wait for it.”

Ammut licked his teeth and narrowed his eyes at Bakura. The slaps weren't really a deterrent. They both knew that. But they were a symbolic gesture. If he kept pushing, Bakura would deny him the physical sensation he craved all together. He made a frustrated whining noise and sat back on his heels, rocking slightly with impatience. It didn't help that Bakura made a show of tossing his hair and arching his back as he turned away to do his own cleaning. Lips parted, tongue hanging out, Ammut's hand crept toward his lap. Without looking back, Bakura kicked Ammut's hand away with his heel. 

“I said wait. That includes touching yourself.” When he finished scrubbing the remnants of the night's activities off his own body, Bakura worked the bar of complimentary soap between his fingers. “Stand up and put your hands on the wall.”

Ammut complied, even as he gave the soap an annoyed pout. “Do we have to?” He whined. 

“If you want it, you'll take it how I give it,” Bakura growled. He gripped the nape of the tan neck and jabbed two slick fingers straight up Ammut's ass. 

Ammut's breath hitched. Then a low moan wound its way out of his throat as the cheap soap began to burn sensitive mucus membranes. 

Bakura smirked. “See? I know what I'm doing.” He added a third finger, wiggling and jabbing. His efforts earned another moan as Ammut arched his back and dragged clawed fingers down the condensation streaked wall. Anything sharp. Anything hard. Ammut craved intensity. He had a way of coaxing Bakura off the rails like that. Unhinging him. 

His fingers slid out, quickly replaced by the bar of soap. The ring of muscle resisted the flat edges of the rectangular object at first. Then Bakura discovered that by leading with a corner he could leverage entrance. 

“Fuck, Bakura, fuck...” Ammut's voice quavered. It didn't matter that the soap was too slick for friction. His body protested the unnatural shape of the bar. Bakura could make anything hurt so perfectly. 

Bakura hooked his elbow around Ammut's neck and squeezed. The taller man had to arch back farther as Bakura stood on tiptoe to nibble his earlobe. He fucked him with the bar of soap as he choked him out, and the deliciously sick fuck just moaned and squirmed and beat the wall with his fists. When Bakura felt him starting to get heavy in his arms, he released his hold and stepped back entirely. 

Ammut folded to the floor of the tub, swaying as gray clouds cleared from his vision. His head lolled back and he grinned upside down at the other male. The white form glowed in the cheap florescents. Glimmering rivulets flowed down his chest and sparkling droplets bounced off his shoulders. Fingernails raked up Ammut's chest and throat. Ammut leaned back farther as the hands cradled his skull. “I want to touch you,” Ammut growled. 

Bakura smirked. “I know.”

“I want to consume you.”

“Glutton.” Bakura put one foot on the lip of the tub. Then he reached behind himself and grabbed Ammut's hair with one hand, tugging until he was straddling Ammut's face.

Bracing himself on one arm and stroking himself with his free hand, Ammut took Bakura's balls into his mouth. The need for a good, hard fucking hurt almost as much as his back in this position. He'd make Bakura want him. He would. He always did. 

Bakura eyed the muscles straining beneath the bronze skin. Ammut was surprisingly flexible for someone so toned. Thought it was less likely that he was comfortable bending that way and more likely that he didn't care to heed his body's protests. Funnily enough, Bakura had to be careful with Ammut. As much as the albino enjoyed getting a chance to rail away, unrestrained, it wouldn't be useful to let his partner's self-destructive appetites cause permanent injury. Everything about Ammut was unsafe, insane, and nonconsensual. Where would he be without Bakura to tie him down?

Mm... tie him down...

Bakura bit his lip, tightening his fist in the wild spikes. He made himself wait. Made Ammut work for the reaction he knew he wanted. When he felt the shameless tongue slick wantonly between his butt cheeks, he finally let Ammut hear a throaty gasp. Finally wrapped his own fingers around his own cock to highlight the experience of one of Ammut's rim jobs. Dangerous as that mouth could be, the mad thing was fantastic at oral. Wasn't afraid to get in deep. Or take it deep.

If whatever cheap water heater their motel used hadn't started to give out, Bakura didn't know how long he would've stood there. Instead, he extricated himself from the awkward position and turned to the faucet. A moment later, he heard a flurry of movement and felt Ammut grab his hips from behind. Bakura slapped at him again. “Bed,” he scowled as he looked over his shoulder and the man kneeling behind him. “Now.”

Ammut was out of the tub as soon as the second word left Bakura's lips. Soaking wet, he crawled onto the bed. He fidgeted as Bakura strolled out of the bathroom toweling his hair. The albino paused in place, and then rolled his eyes.

“Forget something?”

“No,” Ammut growled. “Quit stalling and come here.”

Bakura threw the towel at him. “Dry off.”

“Ba-”

“I'm not sleeping in damp sheets. Dry. Off.”

Ammut smirked. “Make me.”

Bakura raised an unimpressed eyebrow. Wordlessly, he grabbed the complimentary lotion from the night stand and started back toward the bathroom. 

“Okay! Okay, okay, okay!” Ammut grabbed the towel and ruffled his hair with it. “See? Drying! Happy?”

Bakura chuckled. “Very.” He climbed onto the foot of the bed, playing idly with himself as he watched Ammut mop the water off his skin, just to make sure the impatient thing was as frustrated as possible. Then he pounced, tense restraint devolving into nipping teeth, scratching nails, and pinching fingers. 

Framed by his cascade of white hair, Bakura gave Ammut a sharp, lopsided grin as he pinched and twisted the dark nipples. Ammut's hissed gasp rose to a wall-piercing cry as he arched and undulated under the lithe body. 

Tongue out, panting, Ammut seized two fistfuls of Bakura's hair and mashed their mouths together, biting and pulling at the pale lips with his teeth. “Fuck me,” he breathed between violent kisses.

Bakura pinned Ammut's wrists at either side of his shoulders, grinding their cocks together as he grazed his teeth along Ammut's collar bone. 

“Fuck you, Bakura, fuck me!” Ammut growled.

Bakura smirked against Ammut's neck. “Which is it? Fuck you or fuck me?” Kisses, now. Agonizingly soft brushes of lips against a racing pulse.

“I will flip you over and ride your cock myself!”

A laugh this time. “Is that supposed to be a threat? Because lying back while you do all the work sounds very appealing.”

“Bakura,” Ammut whined. It was a strange thing, really, how much power the smaller man managed to wield. Ammut could physically overpower Bakura easily. Could throw him down and take him any which way. But that wasn't what Ammut wanted from Bakura. Bakura was the only person he'd ever met with the arrogance and callousness to dominate him exactly how he liked it. He needed Bakura's cooperation. Fuck, maybe the begging and frustration were even part of the game. Ammut didn't know. Or care. He just wanted Bakura to rail him until he couldn't walk straight.

Deciding he'd tormented the other man enough, Bakura slipped off the side of the bed and yanked Ammut into position. Head hanging over the side. Giving Bakura's cock a straight shot down his throat. He reached for Ammut's knees as he fucked his mouth. Then he guided the tan legs to wrap around his middle as he put one knee on the edge of the mattress. It was a difficult position, particularly for Ammut, but Ammut was all about difficult, and Bakura liked the relative ease with which he could switch between Ammut's mouth and ass in this position. The pale fiend fucked both holes exactly as hard and fast as he felt compelled to. No mercy. No consideration. 

Ammut relished every minute of it.

As Bakura felt his own climax approaching, his attention diverted from Ammut's mouth entirely. He leaned over, bracing himself with one hand as the other reached into the tangle of bodies to jerk roughly at Ammut's cock. Eventually he felt the telltale muscle contractions pulling at his shaft. A gurgling cough interrupted the panting coming from below him. Bakura moaned as he shifted the grip of both hands to Ammut's rear. There was always something sexy about making him cum on his own face. Bakura rode the receding waves of Ammut's orgasm to climax. 

Ammut unrolled onto the mattress as Bakura stepped back. White goo drooled from both orifices and his chest heaved. He grinned at Bakura upside-down, licking the sticky fluid from his lips. He was limp. Dull. Relaxed, for once. “Bakura,” he whispered, frustration replaced with contentment. 

Bakura returned a smaller, tighter version of the smile as he sprawled out next to his partner. It had been a long night. With Ammut finally appeased, sleep dragged at the edges of Bakura's thoughts. Even the heavy, hot, sticky body pressing to his side and squeezing him closer couldn't distract him from it. There was a long moment where Ammut simply breathed against the side of Bakura's neck, and Bakura's eyes were just starting to close.

“I was behaved tonight, right?” Ammut suddenly asked.

“Yes, yes, you were fine,” Bakura dismissed. In the silence that followed, he realized Ammut was staring at him. Expectantly. Bakura sighed. “What?”

“I behaved. I was quiet. I was quick. I wasn't...” he trailed off, as though trying to remember something.

“Excessive?” Bakura supplied.

“Yes.”

“I'm all out of cookies, Ammut. Just let me sleep.”

“I want to play with the toy.”

Bakura finally opened one eye and looked at his companion. “You shouldn't be behaving just to manipulate me into giving you treats, you know.”

“I'm not,” Ammut protested. “It's just been so long.”

“It's been a week,” Bakura said.

“A week and a half.”

Bakura rolled his eyes. “Don't you have your own toy to play with?”

“My toy's broken, I want to play with yours.”

“Maybe you played with him too much,” Bakura said.

“No. He's always been the way he is. Yours is much better, trust me.”

“What way is that, exactly?” Bakura asked, more out of curiosity than anything else. Now that it was clear that Ammut had no intention of letting him sleep yet, he figured he may as well take the unexpected opportunity to satisfy some curiosity. He'd never really met Ammut's hikari. It hadn't been necessary.

“Broken and stupid,” Ammut said.

Bakura frowned thoughtfully at the ceiling. Ammut was a simple thing. Questioning him probably wasn't worth the trouble.

Then Ammut grinned. “Tell you what,” he purred, nuzzling up to Bakura's ear. “If you show me yours, I'll show you mine.”

Now that could be interesting. “I want to watch.”

“Of course, of course.” Ammut's grin widened. “I like it when you watch.”

Bakura walked over to a dresser drawer and pulled out a large key shaped like an ankh. When he turned around, Ammut was sitting up again, practically drooling with anticipation. Bakura smirked back. He really was cute when he was excited. Not that Bakura would ever admit that out loud.


	2. Tender Deathshipping

Ryou was rearranging the large diorama in the center of his soul room when the door opened. "Spirit!" He bowed hastily. "What can I-" He froze when he noticed the body filling the doorway behind Bakura. The figurine in his hand clattered to the floor. "Oh... A-Ammut... hello..."

Ammut brushed past Bakura and grabbed the front of Ryou's shirt. He kept striding forward until Ryou's back hit the wall. "Why are you wearing this?"

"I didn't know you were coming."

"Never wear anything." He sunk his claws into the fabric and ripped it open.

Ryou gasped, eyes flicking hopelessly to Bakura. 

"Am I boring you?" Ammut asked.

"No!" Ryou shook his head.

Ammut slapped him. "Don't ignore me."

"I won't. I wasn't. I'm sorry..."

Ammut grabbed Ryou's shoulders and spun him to face the wall. The pale arms went limp as Ammut shredded the back of his shirt as well, allowing the two pieces to slide to the floor. He wrapped the white hair around his fist and turned Ryou's head sideways. His tongue dragged up the side of Ryou's face as he tore the button from Ryou's jeans and ripped open the zipper. Ryou cringed. Ammut grinned.

Bakura settled onto Ryou's bed and laced his fingers behind his head. The size difference was the most arousing. Ryou was a thin, shy little thing. Ammut towered over him by a solid eight inches, not counting his hair. Ryou looked tiny. Completely overpowered and overwhelmed. It was beautiful. Bakura loved watching his partner toss the hikari around like he was nothing.

Ammut lifted Ryou out of the puddle of clothing and turned to sit him on the edge of the diorama. 

Ryou inhaled sharply. "Please... be careful..." he whispered. 

"Of what?" Ammut leered.

Ryou's eyes flicked to Bakura again, so Ammut smacked him harder. A red, shiny bead of liquid appeared at the corner of Ryou's mouth. 

"Please, he's going to break it," Ryou whimpered.

"It's not polite to talk about people like they aren't there," Bakura chastised. "Be a good a host."

A tear ran down Ryou's cheek as Ammut gripped his neck. A cry tore its way from Ryou's throat as Ammut slammed his back down on the table. Buildings and figurines shattered and scattered.

"Maybe next time you'll be ready for me," Ammut hissed. His fingernails dug into Ryou's cheeks, drawing forth more of the little red beads. 

"I'm sorry," Ryou sobbed, clutching at Ammut's wrist. "Please let me make it up to you. I want to make it up to you!"

"You'll make it up to me when I'm sure you're sorry enough." Ammut reached for the castle in the center and snapped off a turret. 

Ryou cried out again as Ammut dragged him to the edge of the table, raking his back through the sharp bits of debris. He pushed the pale thighs up and apart. Ryou hid behind his forearms, shivering. It didn't take much to terrorize the little thing. Watching him cry in the wreckage of his hard work already had Ammut hard. But if he fucked him now, it would be over far too quickly. 

Ammut squeezed both of Ryou's wrists in one hand and pinned them above his head. Ryou's breath hitched as he watched Ammut with wide eyes. An eager tongue slicked across vicious teeth. Ryou moaned and tried to twitch away when the tip of the spire poked his rear entrance. Ammut's fist tightened around the thin wrists. His grin widened in conjunction. "No where to go," he whispered.

Ryou squirmed as the tower breached the ring of muscle. The pain came quickly as Ammut fucked him with the conical roof. Each push and twist worked it a little deeper. 

Bakura wondered if Ammut was lashing out randomly, or if he recognized the full extent of what he'd done. He'd destroyed something Ryou really cared about. And then started raping him with it. "You are sick," Bakura purred from the bed.

Ammut shot him a grin, and then addressed Ryou. "Up." The tower withdrew as he pulled Ryou into a standing position. When he bent the hikari over the side of the diorama closest to Bakura, he took a moment to enjoy the bruised, lacerated back. Then he smacked the pale bottom. "Spread."

Ryou reached back with trembling hands and pulled his cheeks apart. Another pained shout evacuated his lungs when Ammut resumed violating him, but he wasn't surprised this time.

Bakura sighed, running his fingers down his stomach and pushing them into the waist band of his pants. "Spit on him," he breathed. "Get it deeper."

Ammut spit and pushed harder. Ryou arched and sobbed. 

"Yes." Bakura fondled his growing erection with one hand as his other hand released it from the confines of his jeans. "Make him take it." He played with himself slowly. He wasn't actually trying to finish. Just relieve some of the tension. "Almost there, yadonushi..."

By the time Ammut finally forced the widest part of the object past Ryou's defenses his tongue hung from the corner of his mouth like a salivating dog. Ryou sobs faded to low whimpers as he squirmed face down on the diorama. There was a pause, and then Ammut used a fistful of Ryou's hair to force him to his knees. 

"Make it up to me," Ammut growled.

Ryou sniffled as he fumbled with Ammut's fly. He concentrated on the bulge in Ammut's pants, because if he looked at Ammut's face he might freeze up, and if he looked at Bakura, Ammut might get angry again. His mouth was on Ammut's cock before his pants were even fully down. He'd learned that Ammut hated waiting. 

Ammut gripped the white locks as he stepped out of his pants, dragging Ryou along on his knees as he backed toward the bed and sat down. Ryou groaned as the object sticking out of him shifted. A sound that turned into a gag when Ammut pushed on the back of his head.

Ryou's pale face flushed crimson. Spit glistened on his chin and lips. Ammut's chest heaved as he watched Ryou with wide, excited eyes. His tongue was slack on his lower lip as he tilted his head back and forced Ryou's head to move faster. Ryou let out a muffled mmph as protest, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. 

Bakura couldn't resist. He shifted onto his knees and crawled up next to Ammut. One violet eye cracked open, and then Bakura's tongue was in the crocodile's mouth. Bakura reached up Ammut's shirt and raked his nails in slow arcs across the solid chest. Ammut wrapped an arm behind Bakura and grabbed his hair, pressing their mouths together harder. 

An albino in each hand. One perfectly submissive. One perfectly dominant. Ammut loved it when they used the toy.

Bakura worked himself into a position straddling Ryou's head and Ammut's lap. When the kiss broke, Bakura shifted down Ryou's back and knelt on the floor behind him. The tower was still sticking out of his rear. Bakura grabbed it and tugged lightly. Ryou whimpered around Ammut's cock and started shaking. Slowly, carefully, Bakura removed it and set it aside. Leering at Ammut, Bakura licked his thumb, and then slipped it into Ryou's ass. Ryou's whimpers turned into a muffled yelp. The struggle was brief, but Bakura saw Ammut's hands tighten on the sides of Ryou's head. 

"No," Ammut warned.

Ryou kept bobbing his head in Ammut's lap, but the whimpering didn't stop. The whines hit a peek when Bakura replaced his thumb with the head of his cock. Bakura thrust his hips forward, causing Ryou to lose his balance and choke on Ammut's cock again.

Ammut gasped, and then let out a breathy laugh. "It feels so good when his throat does that."

Smirking, Bakura snapped his hips forward again. Gradually, he stole the rhythm of the blow job, until it was his movements that made Ammut growl and squirm. His movements that made Ryou gag. He wasn't usually particularly rough with his hikari, when it was just the two of them. Sex was simply a power play. An assertion of dominance. But Ammut had this wild, crazy, contagious energy...

Ammut panted. His hands clutched at the figure in his lap, but his attention was almost entirely consumed by Bakura at this point. White bangs shadowed the already dark eyes. A cocky grin lifted one corner of Bakura's mouth. He was cold, hard, sharp, and so fucking beautiful. Ammut moaned and curled forward as a pleasant tightness clenched his abdomen. 

Bracing himself on the back of Ryou's head, Bakura leaned forward and caught Ammut's tongue between his teeth. Ammut cried out. Ryou gurgled. When Ammut finally let him up for air, Ryou had cum running from his nostrils. He looked miserable. Any remaining struggle had run completely out of him by the time Bakura shot a load in his other orifice.

Normally, they would have spent the afterglow coming down on Ryou's bed. Bakura would trap Ryou against his chest or side with one arm and take some time to enjoy the way the soft hikari shivered in helpless, obedient silence. Ammut would count, examine, and generally poke at any cuts or bruises until he'd memorized them all.

But this time, Bakura's mind was elsewhere.


	3. Bronze Thiefshipping

The way Ammut described him, Bakura expected to find some frail little thing cowering in a corner when he opened the door. What he found was a figure in a sleeveless lavender hoodie kneeling in the middle of the room. His arms were fastened to his ankles behind him. When he raised his lowered head, Bakura realized he was wearing some sort of heavy-duty gag. The bronze hikari eyed the two men suspiciously, but he didn't shrink away, didn't struggle, didn't do much of anything.

Ammut crossed his arms and leaned against the door. "That's him," he said matter-of-factly. 

"Does he have a name?" Bakura asked. 

"Yes," Ammut said. When Bakura shot him an annoyed look, Ammut sighed and seemed to search the ceiling for the answer. "Ma... Malik? Marik? One of those two..."

Bakura arched an eyebrow. "You don't remember your hikari's name?"

"Is it important? 'Hey, you' gets the point across."

Bakura eyed the young man. "Is he always tied up?"

"You're the one who wanted to meet him. Go! Meet him!" Ammut made a shooing gesture with his hands. 

Bakura approached the bound figure and squatted in front of him. "Which is it, hikari? Are you a Malik or a Marik?"

The almost familiar lavender eyes narrowed.

Intrigued now, Bakura reached behind his head to unbuckle the straps on the gag. The young man licked his lips and swallowed once his tongue was free of the mouthpiece. "Well?" Bakura prompted when he didn't receive any other response.

"Fuck you," the bronze hikari hissed in a raspy voice.

Bakura raised an amused eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"You think I'm going to bow down and play nice while you hurt me? What are you going to do if I don't? Hurt me? Fuck you."

Bakura laughed. "I thought you said he was stupid and broken."

"I punish him until he cries and screams and passes out. I know he's terrified of pain. But he still pisses me off on purpose. It's stupid. His head is broken," Ammut said.

"Is that so?" Bakura asked the hikari.

"My thoughts are mine and there's nothing you can do about it." The 'fuck you' at the end of the sentence went unspoken, but not unheard. 

Bakura laughed again. "I can't believe you've been sitting on this treasure the entire time."

"He's useless," Ammut snorted.

"He's delightful," Bakura smirked. 

Bakura brushed the hikari's bangs behind his ears, noting the way he tried to hide his cringe. The backs of Bakura's fingers grazed the tan neck as his hands made their way to the hikari's chest. The lavender eyes remained guarded and uncertain until Bakura unfastened the two gold chains that crossed the hoodie's zipper. Then they hardened with disgust and darted away. 

Bakura drew the zipper down and pulled the hoodie open. The body underneath was tight, but much leaner than Ammut. The chest heaved visibly as the hikari's respiration changed, but he kept his jaw stubbornly tight. Bakura rubbed the bare chest with one palm. The skin was much silkier than Ammut's. The hand pressed harder, feeling for the fluttering heartbeat.

"Do I frighten you?" Bakura asked.

The hikari glared at Bakura sideways. Once more, he didn't have to say it. The two words were obvious in his expression. It seemed Bakura's interest in what he had to say had caused him to clam up entirely, though. The only thing he had any control over. The words in his mouth and whether or not he let them out. It fascinated Bakura that he clung to that tiny bit of power in spite of his fear and any trouble it might cause.

But forcing a person to feel fear and pain was easy. Bakura had a different game he wanted to play. A game he didn't get to play with Ryou, because Ryou wasn't nearly stubborn enough. Bakura crawled around behind the young man and fiddled with the knotted rope. 

The hikari stiffened when the ropes loosened. Bakura got up on his knees behind him, reaching around his chest to pull off the hoodie. The hikari's elbow snapped back, catching Bakura in the midsection. Then the hikari shot to his feet and bolted. He couldn't leave the room, but he did dive into the space under his bed.

Ammut scowled. "I told you he's a little shit." He strode across the room and peered under the bed. His hikari shrank against the wall, glowering like an angry cat. Ammut grabbed an ankle and pulled. 

The hikari growled, kicking at Ammut's fingers with his free foot. "Fuck off! Both of you!"

Bakura crossed his arms. "He certainly has your expansive vocabulary."

As soon as he had him out far enough, Ammut grabbed one of the flailing elbows. The hikari immediately sat up and sank his teeth into Ammut's hand. Unfazed, Ammut hoisted him up and tossed him back into the middle of the room. When the hikari tried to stand up, Ammut kicked him in the ribs and planted a foot on his throat. He applied pressure slowly, watching the lavender eyes start to glaze over as his hikari beat pathetically at his leg.

"Now, now, calm down," Bakura finally interjected. "I don't want him unconscious."

The hikari coughed when Ammut's foot lifted, wheezing.

"I guess you're right," Ammut said. "He should be awake for his punishment." He kicked his hikari again.

"I don't want to punish him," Bakura said, using the hikari's moment of weakness to finish stripping off the shirt. "His willfulness is charming. I want to see how far it goes. Get him up and hold him still."

Ammut hooked his elbows under his hikari's armpits and scooped him into a full nelson.

The hikari made a final attempt to push Bakura away with his feet, but Bakura was braced for it this time. He stepped in too close for the hikari to get proper momentum behind his kicks. Bakura held the defiant eye contact as he unfastened the hikari's belt and khakis. "My name is Bakura," the albino said, "just in case you want to yell it when you cum."

The hikari squirmed. 

"What?" Ammut snorted incredulously. "Why?"

Bakura smirked at their irate prisoner. "Because he doesn't want to."

The hikari snarled and started to open his mouth. 

"Yes, yes, fuck off, fuck you, and all that." Bakura waved his hand dismissively. He pushed the pants and underwear off the hikari's thighs and let them fall around his ankles. Ammut forced the hikari's legs apart with a knee and stood on the clothing to keep his ankles trapped. Bakura traced a finger lightly down the back of the hikari's ear and along his jaw to his chin. 

The hikari twisted his head to snap at Bakura's hand, but Bakura was too fast and the position was too awkward. Ammut snarled and pressed harder on the nape of the tan neck, attempting to wrench the hikari's shoulders back farther. The hikari grimaced and groaned.

"Ammut." Bakura's voice was low and even, yet forceful. 

Ammut growled. He glared at Bakura, and then his grip loosened a bit.

The stubborn hatred in the hikari's eyes intensified. Outwardly, Bakura maintained his stony poker face. Internally, he was delighted. He wanted the hikari to hate him. Pale fingers traced and explored modest, bronze pecs. One finger slowly stroked and circled a nipple. The hikari set his jaw and shrank back against Ammut. Bakura caught the hikari's jaw just firmly enough to keep him from biting. Then he leaned in and applied his tongue in the same manner he'd applied his finger a moment ago. The tan chest lurched. 

When Bakura checked the hikari's expression again he found himself looking into wide, perplexed eyes. The hatred was still there, no doubt, but the young man didn't seem to know what to do with it. Bakura's eyes and hands wandered lower. They explored ribs. Abs that tensed as Bakura's fingers followed the hikari's pelvic v toward his crotch. Bakura paused just short of Marik's cock. Then he turned his attention to the tan thighs. As a pale palm smoothed up the inside of one leg, Bakura heard another hitched breath. Tickling and stroking the sensitive skin on the hikari's inner thighs, Bakura returned to tonguing his nipples.

The hikari struggled, grunting and breathing hard. When Bakura finally palmed the hikari's genitals, he found him half hard. He also elicited a very startled lurch from their captive. Bakura purred, working the shaft in his hand with light touches of his fingers. "Are you sure you don't want to cum for me?" Bakura whispered against his ear. "It feels a little like you want to cum for me..."

Any caustic response the hikari prepared to utter was interrupted by a gasp as Bakura pushed back his foreskin and toyed with the exposed cock head. He watched the hikari's face turn red as he felt the hikari's cock harden. The hikari closed his eyes and squirmed, biting his lip and shaking his head. Bakura watched a spot of blood well up on the soft lips. Smirking now that the young man wasn't looking, Bakura sucked on his middle and ring fingers until strings of saliva hung between them. Then he reached between the tan thighs. Worked his fingers between the tight hindquarters. Stroked and penetrated. He'd expected renewed struggles and shouted curses. 

The hikari did try to squeeze his thighs together, but when that didn't work he only shuddered and breathed, "Hate you... Hate you..." More a movement of his blood stained lips than actual sounds.The words became a mantra as Bakura's fingers found the hikari's prostate. A warding chant as his body writhed against his will. 

"That's right," Bakura purred as he worked his fist faster on the precum-glazed shaft. "Come on..."

"Hate you," the hikari groaned. 

"Such a good little hikari." Bakura nuzzled and licked his chest some more.

"Fuck you..." The hikari tried to arch, but Ammut's grip kept him steady. "Fuckyoufuckyoufuck..." The hikari sucked in a sharp breath as his hips jerked. He writhed in Ammut's pin for a few more moments, and then went limp. Sweat plastered his hair to his shoulders 

Bakura looked at the milky goo covering his fingers. "Hmph. I expected that to be harder. Maybe you are useless."

Lavender eyes glared through stringy blond bangs. Before the hikari could respond, Bakura slapped him across the face with his cum-filled palm. 

A cackle burst from Ammut's throat. The hikari used the distraction to wrench himself free, but immediately tripped over his own clothing. He glared up at the laughing mad man and the smug albino. Angry. Humiliated. He cocked a fist and tried to launch himself at Bakura, but a cruel tug at the back of his skull stopped him.

"You should be glad for what you can get," Ammut leered. "Nothing else good is going to happen to you tonight." Ammut forced the hikari onto his stomach and pinned his arms with his knees. Then he grabbed the gag.

"I thought you liked biting," Bakura said as he wiped his hands on his jeans.

Ammut laughed. "Oh, the pain isn't the problem." He forced the hikari's head back as far as he could. "If he's not going to use his mouth for what I want, he doesn't get to use it." His fingers dug into the corners of the hikari's mouth. "Holding his mouth open with bondage equipment so that I can throat-fuck him started out fun, but night after night it gets..."

"Tedious?" Bakura supplied.

"Mm." He worked the tips of his fingers into the space between the gums at the back of his hikari's mouth and pried his jaw open. The hikari snarled and clamped down, but once Ammut's fingers were between his teeth it was too late to do much about it.

Bakura considered the scene in front of him. "Don't gag him yet. I want to try something."


	4. Psycho Angstshipping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ends the experiment I was trying, but there's going to be a fifth bonus smut chapter at some point after the holiday hubbub has died down.

Ryou pawed listlessly through the broken bits of diorama. He was trying to sort out the pieces so he could start fixing it, but his vision kept blurring over. His back was killing him. Every time he moved, every time he breathed, some new twinge made him wince and tear up. Bakura intimidated him. Ammut terrified him.

He remembered the first time he'd met Ammut. The Spirit had walked into the room and introduced him as 'the man we're fucking.' Before Ryou had been able to gather a response, Ammut had closed in on him. Circled him tighter and tighter. Smelled his hair. Licked his face. Bitten his neck. And the Ring Spirit had just... watched. Had just dropped a shark into a fishbowl and stood back to watch what happened.

He must've enjoyed what had happened because Ryou was well acquainted with Ammut now. Even in his mind, the Ring Spirit only saw him as a body to use.

His ears perked up when he heard the door, but he relaxed a little when he didn't hear Ammut's heavy, purposeful stride. "Good... um..."

"It's probably morning by now," the Spirit said.

"Good morning, Spirit."

The Ring Spirit chuckled. "Good morning, yadonushi."

"What do you need?" Ryou asked.

"Ammut invited us over."

Ryou's stomach dropped. "Now? But..." 

The Ring Spirit joined Ryou next to the diorama. "Your miniatures aren't going anywhere." He put a hand on Ryou's elbow. "Let's go."

"Spirit," Ryou whimpered. "Please... Don't make me go to his soul room. I'm afraid..." 

The Spirit put his other hand on Ryou's shoulder. "Ammut is important to me. I expect you to get along with him."

The Spirit's grip was tight. Cold. Not comforting at all. "He's going to hurt me..."

"Those wounds aren't even real, yadonushi."

"They feel real," Ryou protested. "It all feels real. I'm scared."

The Spirit just gave Ryou a long, hard look.

Ryou lowered his head, and then followed him into the blank space between the rooms, hiding behind him as much as he dared. 

His eyes flicked up when he heard the gasping and grunting sounds of a struggle. There was a fourth young man pinned underneath Ammut, squirming and bucking as the mad man hogtied him. Ryou couldn't see his face, but he had the same skin as Ammut. The same blonde shade of hair. Ryou's eyes widened. The monster had a hikari.

Ammut looked up from his hunched position. He flashed the pair of albinos his rabid grin. "I had to hit him a few times. We're almost done."

The Spirit smirked. "Then I suppose I should get mine ready."

"For what?" Ryou asked with a soft tremor. 

The Spirit grabbed both of Ryou's wrists and made him sit on the only bed in the room. Though the bed reminded him more of the cots his father used at his long-term dig sites than a proper bed. Ryou didn't get much time to think about it, what with the Spirit straddling his lap and filling his awareness. 

"Please don't let him hurt me," Ryou whispered, hoping Ammut wasn't listening. "Not right after... just this once..."

The Spirit leaned close to Ryou's ear. "Sh..."

The rush of breath against his skin sent a little tingle through Ryou. The Spirit knew. He'd been the one who found the sensitive spot behind Ryou's ear.

"Yadonushi..." A light brush of lips this time. 

Ryou fisted his hands in the unfamiliar sheets. 

"That's not what this is..." He cupped Ryou's balls.

Ryou gasped and blushed.

"I want you to get hard for me." He tickled humming kissing along Ryou's jaw and down Ryou's throat.

Ryou smothered his moan in the Spirit's hair. 

The Spirit chuckled as he fondled the pale hikari. "Why were you still naked?" He purred. "Is it because you want to be a good host?"

"Yes," Ryou whispered. "I want to be a good host."

"How good do you want to be?"

"I... I don't know..." Ryou's eyes accidentally opened on the other two. The bronze hikari was on his back, now, with Ammut straddling his waist. One of Ammut's hands was in the hikari's mouth. The other held some U-shaped metal contraption that Ryou couldn't identify.

"We're going to find out how good you want to be," the Spirit grinned against Ryou's neck.

Prongs lined the inner front curve of the U. As Ryou watch, Ammut jammed them between the other hikari's teeth. The bronze hikari cried out. The pale hikari gasped. Ammut terrified him.

Marik heard and felt his jaw pop as the Usurper forced it open and locked it in place. Blood flavored spit pooled at the back of his mouth even as the cool, arid air dried the tip of his tongue. He breathed heavily through his nose, determined not to give the monster or his albino whores the satisfaction of tears. 

The Usurper cocked his head, peering into Marik's mouth. He poked at a tooth that had been loosened in the struggle. For a moment, Marik's eyes widened as fear flashed across his face. Then they narrowed as he braced himself against his shield of anger. He shuddered but managed to keep from crying out until, with a sickening tearing sensation, the twisting fingers wrenched his tooth ninety degrees. The Usurper grinned and yanked. Marik turned his face away, drooling more blood.

Distracted by the racket, the Spirit stopped molesting Ryou to raise an eyebrow at Ammut.

Ammut held up the tooth, pinched between two bloody fingers. "Choking hazard." Then he giggled.

Ammut really terrified Ryou.

"Is he ready?" Ammut asked, eyes drifting to Ryou.

"He's as ready as he ever will be, I think," the Spirit said.

Ryou gripped the front of the Spirit's shirt. "Spirit, please..." he begged one more time.

The Spirit calmly unhooked Ryou's fingers from the fabric. Then he held Ryou in front of him and walked him toward the pair on the floor. 

The Usurper pulled Marik onto his knees and forced him to face the other two males. Blood and saliva drizzled down Marik's chin, but he was just glad to have this throat clear. Taking a moment to look, he realized the softer of the two albinos looked even more frightened than Marik felt.

"Relax, yadonushi," the Spirit purred in Ryou's ear. He gripped Ryou's cock as the pair of fiends forced the pair of hikaris closer to each other. "He may not try to bite you at all."

"He's a little shit. He's going to bite him," Ammut said.

Ryou squeezed his eyes shut and moaned. There wasn't anything left to say to the Spirit or Ammut, so he tried one last appeal. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "Please... I'm sorry..."

Marik stared at the pale hikari. He'd had every intention of fighting literal tooth and nail to deny Bakura and the Usurper their fun. But it seemed Bakura was more cunning than the thoughtless force of destruction that was Marik's own dark half. Marik continued staring as Bakura fed the other albino's cock into Marik's mouth.

The Spirit held the blonde's head in place and pressed forward with his hips. Trapped between them, Ryou pressed his fists to his reddening face and shook his head. Ammut loosened the screws on either side of the device and maneuvered it out of the way. Lavender eyes met and held Ryou's for a long moment. Then flicked away.

As much as Marik had already decided that he hated Bakura, the fucker had him on this one. Besides, the Usurper probably wanted Marik to bite the other hikari. Marik sat there, mouth open, a throat ready to fuck, but he wouldn't give either of them anything else so easily. Of course his lack of action frustrated the Usurper. Rough hands forced Marik's head forward and back. It hurt his neck and he had to concentrate on not clenching his jaw against the pain.

"Cum in his mouth," the Spirit breathed in Ryou's ear.

Ryou hid behind his hair and shook his head harder. 

The Spirit fingered Ryou's balls with one hand and strummed at his nipple with the other. His mouth pressed a trail of kisses from the back of Ryou's ear to the slope of Ryou's shoulder. The tip of his tongue followed the trail back up. "I want you to cum in his mouth," he repeated.

Ryou's face burned as he panted. The blonde's throat was tight and slick around the head of his cock and the Spirit knew how to manipulate him, nuzzling the spot at the curve of his jaw that made him moan. Ryou covered his eyes with his hands. Focused on the warm body behind him. 

"I'm sorry," Ryou breathed. 

A smooth chuckle rumbled in Ryou's ear as the Spirit continued his insistent fondling and petting.

Ryou breathed harder, squirming. "I- I'm s- Ah!"

The Usurper held Marik's head still as Bakura pumped the shy albino's shaft with his fist. Marik closed his throat and breathed through his nose. The cock head resting on his tongue twitched and filled his mouth with a third fluid. He wanted to see what the slimy, pink concoction looked like running down Bakura's arrogant face, but settled for spitting it at his shoe instead. 

There was a small sense of power in his ability to make the Usurper fly off the handle. Take any plans he may have had and completely derail them so that he tired himself out and walked away without getting what he really wanted in the first place. But Bakura. Bakura just gave Marik that calm, condescending smirk, like Marik had done exactly what Bakura wanted him to do and proved himself an idiot in the process. Like he was manipulating Marik the way Marik manipulated his dark half. 

Marik hated Bakura.


	5. Bonus Smut: British Rails

Ryou sat on the floor fiddling with a bit of clay. The other hikari had become somewhat lodged in his head. A new person. A possibly normal person. Ryou wished he knew his name. For now he just worked on recreating his face. 

The door creaked.

Ryou scrambled to shove everything under his bed. Before he could turn around, he heard the heavy, determined steps. A chill chased down his spine, freezing him in place. A dark, clawed hand grabbed his shoulder and flicked him around so he was on his butt, staring up at the face that haunted him. Similar face, stuck in his head for very different reasons. "Hello, Ammut." He searched his peripheral vision for the Spirit to no avail. 

Ammut gripped Ryou's jaw and pulled him up on his knees. Ryou briefly wondered if he should start unbuttoning Ammut's pants. Then a sharp thumbnail dragged across his lower lip, splitting it open. 

A wide grin stretched slowly across Ammut's face as Ryou's gasped whimper tickled across his thumb. "I want to paint my cock with your blood, and watch you suck it off again."

Cringing, Ryou struggled with the button on Ammut's khakis. Not that the Ring Spirit ever did much to help, but Ryou liked to think he would step in if Ammut tried to do anything extreme. He felt completely helpless alone with Ammut. Fingers combed through Ryou's hair to the back of his head as Ryou's lips slid down his shaft. 

Ammut simply watched him for a few strokes. Then the hand tightened and pulled Ryou's head back. Ammut used his other hand to trace the head of his cock around Ryou's lips, blood and precum staining them like lip gloss. The salty fluid stung the cut, and Ryou licked it away impulsively. Ammut licked his teeth and tilted his head. His thumbnail pressed to one corner of Ryou's upper lip until blood welled up. Before he could drag it across, Ryou caught movement in the corner of his eye.

The Spirit crossed his arms and shook his head. "Always so easily distracted."

Ammut turned his attention to the doorway. "He started it."

Ryou didn't bother protesting. The things he said rarely mattered when these two were together.

"Bring him," Bakura commanded, in a tone that implied he'd already said it at least once, before heading back into the space between the rooms.

Ammut pouted at Ryou. "But I want to devour his face!" He whined in the Spirit's direction.

"Too bad! You'll have to wait!" The Spirit called back. 

Growling to himself, Ammut stuffed the terrified hikari under one arm and carried him into the other soul room. The first thing Ryou noticed, right before Ammut dropped Ryou on top of him, was the bronze hikari tacked spread-eagle in the middle of the floor. Naked. 

Ryou scrambled onto his hands and knees and found himself staring straight down at the other hikari's face. A gag hid everything from his nose to his chin. Ryou tried to dismount on one side and came up against Ammut. He tried to dismount on the other side and found himself boxed in by the Spirit. Ammut's fingers spidered up Ryou's ribs, pushing up his tank top as they went. The Spirit tugged on the waist band of Ryou's underwear. The opposing forces pulled him down on the other hikari again.

Ryou blushed as their bare chests pressed together. As he suddenly became aware of the other's hardness pressed against his thigh. The Ring Spirit had his body. Saw him naked as a mundane, daily routine. Ammut... all he could feel when he looked at Ammut, when Ammut looked at him, was fear. But the other hikari just made him feel embarrassed. It probably had something to do with the way the lavender eyes remained stubbornly and derisively averted.

A sharp yank of his hair returned Ryou to his upright position. Then Ammut was there, sucking on his lower lip. Nails dug into the back of Ryou's neck. A low sound thrummed in Ammut's throat. The mouth opened wider as a tongue slicked across Ryou's lips and there was a moment where he thought the crocodile really was going to devour his face. 

The Ring Spirit grabbed Ammut's jaw to get his attention, and then shoved his fingers into Ammut's mouth. Ammut smirked, sucking the pale digits eagerly. Ryou ducked behind his hair and discretely wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. After a bit, the Spirit's hand joined Ammut's on Ryou's neck and pushed, pinning the side of Ryou's face to the bronze chest beneath him. Ryou's face flushed hot. Then he cried out as the Spirit's fingers entered his bum.

The two fiends pressed closer on either side of Ryou. He heard Ammut growling and moaning. He heard the Spirit gasping and purring. The hands stopped pinning him at some point, presumably so they could touch each other, but Ryou didn't dare move, even when listening to the heart thump beneath the warm pecs made him blush harder. The Spirit didn't stop fingering him, at least not for any longer than it took to get more of Ammut's spit. He was prepping him, which might have been an almost nice thing to do, except that Ryou knew it was meant to be a tease of worse things to come. Humiliating things. Even painful things, if Ammut's involvement was any indication.

The fingers withdrew, the Spirit murmured some muffled words that Ryou didn't catch, and the bodies caging Ryou in shifted. The Spirit pulled back. Ammut situated himself behind Ryou. Ryou tugged anxiously at his hair. The fact that he was hiding his face against the other hikari's chest no longer mattered when Ammut's claws dug into his hips, gouging out eight red furrows as they established purchase. And that wasn't even going to be the worst part. The worst part was when those hands jerked back, and those hips snapped forward, and the several seconds where all Ryou felt was the shock of pain. Ammut never waited. From the moment he went in, he was all vicious impatience.

Once the shock faded somewhat Ryou wheezed a shuddering breath. His face was wet. Soon enough the skin under him was wet, too. He focused on that skin. That warm, smooth skin. But the pain persisted. It felt like forever before he finally heard anything besides Ammut's excited groans and the ruthless slapping of skin.

"That's enough," the Spirit said. 

Ammut slowed, though he didn't stop. "But I was almost-"

"I know. That's why I need you to wait." 

Ryou peeked over his shoulder. The Spirit stood over Ammut. He raked his nails up Ammut's chest and throat, making the mad man's head go back as they finished the journey up his jaw and off his chin.

"I need you to pace yourself," the Spirit was saying. "We've got a long way to go." His attention turned you Ryou as Ammut reluctantly moved off to one side. A pale hand grabbed a pale shoulder and made Ryou sit up.

Ryou sniffed, wiping his eyes on the backs of his hands. 

"Ride him, yadonushi," the Spirit said. 

Taking little, hiccuping breaths, Ryou looked up at the Spirit, and then down at the bronze hikari. The lavender eyes were flicking back and forth between Ammut and the Spirit, though they met Ryou's briefly. Ryou blushed and ducked behind his hair again. 

"Yadonushi." The Spirit's voice had taken on the dark, firm tone that he usually used on Ammut.

Ryou cringed and squeezed his eyes shut. "May I..." The tiny murmur trailed off into something unintelligible.

The Spirit leaned down next to Ryou's face. "Repeat that."

Ryou looked at him sideways, face pinker than ever. "May I lick him first, please?" He repeated, only slightly louder. 

The Spirit sighed as he straightened up, crossing his arms. "I suppose that isn't an unreasonable request. Make it quick."

Working his tongue and throat to summon up some saliva, Ryou settled between the other hikari's legs. It shouldn't have been hard. He'd sucked Ammut and the Spirit's cocks more times than he cared to remember. But the other young man was as much a prisoner as him. The only reason he was even still aroused was because they had him in a cock ring. As soon as Ryou's tongue touched his shaft, his limbs went rigid. Ryou closed his eyes as he slicked the erection with spit, wishing he could send telepathic sorries. 

The Spirit cleared his throat. Ryou glanced up at him, and then hung his head as he moved into position. He shot the gagged blonde an apologetic look as he grabbed his dick. The lavender eyes just glared at the ceiling. He neither struggled nor made a sound, but the tension was obvious in every line of quivering muscle. 

Ammut's rough treatment had left Ryou rather sore despite the spit and the stretching. The pale hikari sucked air between his teeth as he fed the tan cockhead into himself. The cock's owner lurched and groaned as Ryou descended. The shy albino paused a moment as he fumbled with what to do. He finally braced trembling hands on the other hikari's chest and started rocking. Forward, back. Forward, back. His own cock rubbed against the other hikari's stomach. 

"I know you're not this lazy. Come on. Ride him." The Spirit nudged Ryou's thigh hard with the toe of his shoe.

Ryou squeezed his eyes shut and rocked faster. 

"Put some bounce in it."

Ryou pushed with his thighs, moving himself up and down. It was harder than it looked and it didn't take long for his muscles to start burning. The Spirit hadn't told him to stop, so he kept pushing himself for as long as he could, but eventually he had to slow to a stop. He sat on the other hikari's pelvis, hunched forward, catching his breath. He didn't want to look at any of them. He wanted to focus quietly on the blank space behind his eyelids and give everything below his waist a moment to stop hurting so much.

"Tired already?"

The voice wasn't mean, but Ryou still shuddered. "I'm sorry. My legs hurt."

"Then we'll rest your legs for a bit. Ammut, you're up."

"W-what?" Ryou glanced over his shoulder as Ammut forced him onto all fours. "Wait... Please! I- Ah!" He cried out when Ammut started pounding him again.

"You get five minutes, yadonushi," the Spirit said. 

Ryou whimpered, but he braced himself to endure it. The Spirit had a goal, whatever it was, and Ryou wouldn't turn him off it by begging. Just five minutes. Just five very long, very uncomfortable, very scary minutes.

As he blinked away tears, he noticed the other hikari watching him. He would've looked away, but he saw... Something soft. It had been so long since anyone looked at him softly that he wasn't sure if it was sympathy or pity or something else entirely. All he knew was that it made his chest hurt in an entirely different way and if he hadn't already been crying he definitely would've started. There was a moment where they stared at each other, and Ryou wished so badly to speak to him that he wondered about asking the Spirit if he could. Then Ammut smacked his bum so hard that his eyes and thoughts fogged over again. Not the time for it. Possibly never the time for it.

"Break time's over, yadonushi," the Spirit finally interrupted. 

Ammut backed off again, grinning now that he understood the game. Ryou tried to stall, pretending to fumble around for the proper position. 

Suddenly, the hikari underneath him laughed. It was a short, muffled sound, but it was clearly a condescending, "Ha!" 

The sound hurt Ryou a bit at first, having been on the bad end of so many of the Spirit's condescending laughs, but he quickly realized the other hikari was looking at Ammut. And Ammut was glaring back. Ryou wasn't entirely sure what passed between them. The bronze hikari raised a gold eyebrow, and then Ryou was suddenly on his side at the Spirit's feet and Ammut was crouching in Ryou's place. The first blow opened two scratches across the bronze hikari's temple. The second one left four across his chest. 

"Ammut," the Spirit barked, but the mad man didn't seem to hear him. He just chomped down on his hikari's neck until the smaller Egyptian wailed into his gag. 

Scowling, the Spirit stepped over Ryou and yanked on Ammut's hair. Ammut whirled on him with a bloodstained snarl. The Spirit slapped him. Ammut's glare wavered, and then hardened.

"He started it! He-"

"Sh..." The Spirit raked his nails down the sides of Ammut's face. "Focus for me, Ammut. I'll make it worth your while in the end, won't I? I always do."

Ammut grinned and chuckled. "We'll punish him together."

"If that's what you want," the Spirit smirked. "But no more distractions."

"No more distractions," Ammut agreed.

The bronze hikari growled and looked away from the two fiends. 

The Spirit gave Ryou a pointed look as he ran his fingers through Ammut's spikes. Ryou sniffed and forced his body to crawl back into position. He bit back a whimper as he eased himself back onto the other hikari's erection. He didn't dare complain out loud. The Spirit might make him take another break. 

He alternated between bouncing and rocking as much as he thought he could get away with. It took longer, but the the ache settled into his thighs again and he had to resort to rocking for longer and longer periods of time. Ammut slunk closer and closer, like a lion stalking an injured gazelle. Ryou ground his ass harder on the other hikari's pelvis. Moving. Keep moving, keep moving, keep... 

Ryou flinched when Ammut brushed all of his hair to one side, grazing his inhuman nails across the back of Ryou's neck. His breath was hot on the side of Ryou's face as the predator tasted his tears. The shy albino almost froze, but if he stopped fucking the other hikari the Spirit wouldn't help him. Ryou could just barely see his cruel counterpart in the corner of his vision. He had his hand in his pants. No. No help there.

"You're slowing down," Ammut chuckled in his ear. 

Ryou shuddered. What did the Spirit want from him, anyway? How long did he have to do this? He was going to have to stop. He tried to mentally prepare himself for the consequences of stopping, but the mere thought of Ammut on top of him made him want to curl up and cry.

As he came down, the hips under him suddenly bucked. Ryou yelped, pitching forward and catching himself on either side of the other hikari's rib cage. Ryou watched the bloodied face. The whole thing was drawn tight with concentration, the lavender eyes closed tight, but the other hikari was fucking him back. He heard the Spirit make a pleased sound. It gave him the nudge he needed to meet the awkward thrusts, though as tired as he was it took a bit for him to find the rhythm. At least, once the other hikari started to buck harder, he had an end in sight. Finish him. Finish... Finish... Please, for the love of anything listening even though it probably wasn't so at least for the sake of sanity, finish...

The other hikari let out frustrated groan. His chest heaved as he lurched a few more times. Then he went slack. His eyes opened. The hikaris stared at each other. Ryou wanted to talk to him. Almost asked. 

A dark hand clamped around his throat from behind.

"You stopped," Ammut hissed in Ryou's ear.

Before Ryou could react, he found himself sandwiched between the tan bodies. Ammut cackled as he rutted away on top of him. Ryou was distantly aware of muffling his screams against the bronze hikari's neck, but he couldn't make himself stop. The fresh cum dried into a sticky layer on Ammut's cock, and that only made things worse. This time the pain only stopped when Ammut finished, too. A climax accompanied by the appearance of ten, wet scratches.

Ryou moaned and shuddered as the weight lifted. A great effort rolled him onto his back with his head resting on the other hikari's forearm. The Spirit stood over him, naked body shining like a fever dream. He guided Ryou into a kneeling position.

"Just enough to get it wet," the Spirit said as Ryou nuzzled into the white pubic hair. "We're going to break a record tonight."

Ryou didn't dare complain. Maybe if he was good, the Spirit would let him talk to the other hikari. Maybe Ryou could get a name to go with the face. Even when the Spirit guided him onto his back and nudged his legs apart, Ryou sucked on his scabbed lip to stay quiet. He still couldn't help a groan as the Spirit penetrated the abused hole one more time. 

The Spirit wasn't desperate to get it over with like the other hikari. He wasn't impatient for the spike of sensation like Ammut. He went slow, at least, enjoying every stroke. "How many cocks does this make, yadonushi? Huh?" The Spirit breathed.

Ryou took a moment to sort out the question. "Um... Th-three?"

The Spirit smirked. "You've got a busy little asshole for a shut-in."

Ryou didn't know how to respond to that. He pressed his hands to his face to hide his burning cheeks and didn't move them until he felt the third spurt of liquid up his bum.

The Spirit sat back on his heels and looked at Ammut. "I'm going to put the toy away. Don't start without me. I want to try something."

Ammut giggled as the Spirit nipped his earlobe. Then the Spirit latched an arm around Ryou's waist and helped him limp back to his room.

Ryou collapsed on the bed. The sooner he, for a lack of a better term, slept the sooner his mental form would reset. There would be no more working on figurines in this state. He did, however, finally blurt out, "I want to talk to him. May I? Please?"

The Spirit frowned. "Who?"

"Ammut's... the other one..."

The Spirit laughed. "Sounds like someone has a crush."

"I'm... You know I'm lonely. I want a friend..."

"I'm your friend."

"I want another one."

"Another one." The Spirit clicked his tongue and shook his head. "You're sounding a little greedy, yadonushi."

"Please. I'll do anything. You know I will."

The Spirit tapped his chin as he considered that. "All right." He leaned over and put his hands on his knees, like he was talking to a child. "I'll let you talk to him, but you have to give me some time to come up with an even exchange. You're writing an awfully expensive blank check."

"I know," Ryou murmured.

The Spirit patted him on the head. "Goodnight, yadonushi."

"Good night, Spirit." As soon as the door shut, Ryou curled up on his side and waited for the pain to go away. He hoped they weren't doing anything too awful to the other hikari, but with Ammut involved it was best not think about it too hard.


	6. Normal... ish...: Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to write about the Bakura and Ammut from this story doing something 'normal' and... well... this two part thing happened. Chapter 7 got more emotionally intense than I expected it to. Fair warning, I guess?

Seven items. He had four. A Ring that had always belonged to Bakura. A Rod he'd found in the hands of a serial killer. A Key he'd stolen from the leader of a small, underground cult in Egypt. Scales that had once been the proud centerpiece of a private collector. The Rod had been essential in gaining access to that last one. The Ring had been essential in tracking all of them down. Next on the list, an Eye presently possessed by the eccentric owner of a gigantic American game company. The pair of fiends had tracked the item to the state of California. Gaining access to Pegasus had been a different headache entirely. Bakura had become exceedingly frustrated with how difficult Pegasus made himself to find. He didn't know what he would've done without Ammut to entertain him.

Ammut shouldered his way through the crowd exiting the night club. It was dark, but his white-haired cohort still should've glowed like the moon. His ability to disappear regardless was baffling. As Ammut neared the fringe of the mob, he shoved through a group of drunks moving much slower than was good for them, really. Like the weak part of a herd.

"You looking for something, asshole?" One of them snapped.

Finally! He turned around and cocked his head. "Yes. Did I find it?"

"You found something." The mouthy guy threw a punch.

Ammut let it hit his chest. The dull thump. The explosion of pain. The throbbing aftershock. His eyes dilated as he stepped forward. Balance impaired, the drunk stumbled back into his flock of buddies. He would've fallen if Ammut hadn't grabbed his shirt. Grinning, Ammut yanked him close again. The others all started jabbering at the same time. Someone grabbed Ammut's arm. Someone pulled on the drunk's shoulder. It didn't matter. It was all background noise. Background feeling. Ammut only stopped when he saw the flash of white he'd been seeking. Ammut bared his teeth. His fist tightened momentarily. He barely noticed that the guy fell a couple inches when he let go and stocked off to find Bakura.

Down the street and around the corner, Bakura leaned against a wall as he carded through the drunk's wallet. If nothing else, Ammut made a fabulous distraction, once he was reigned in enough to avoid getting too caught up in the act, anyway. A shadow slithered up next to him and powerful arms pulled his back up against a body almost as solid as the wall. Bakura twisted his head to give Ammut a little nip on the jaw. "We may have enough for a proper diner this time. Good job."

With adrenaline from the almost fight coursing through his veins, Ammut cared significantly more about the rented room than a diner. He would've followed Bakura nearly anywhere, though. All roads with him led back to a mattress eventually, and the albino fiend always found a way to reward Ammut's patience.

Bakura used the freshly stolen cell phone to find the nearest twenty-four-hour diner and then the pair started walking. It was a long walk, but Bakura had full faith in both the beast at his side and the Ring hidden under his shirt. Nothing could threaten him. There was a stretch of silence, and then Bakura said, "Yadonushi was asking if he could spend some time alone with... yours."

"My what?"

"Hey You."

"Oh. Mine."

Bakura looked up at his companion in the heavy shadows. It was hard to read his face. "What would you think of that?"

"I'd want to know why."

"He says he wants a friend."

"Aren't you his friend?"

Bakura laughed. "That's what I said. But seriously. If I were to humor his request, what would you think?"

"I would wonder how he could be friends with mine when mine doesn't get to have friends."

"Why not?"

"Because a friend might make him happy and he doesn't get to be happy."

"Happiness is fantastic leverage, Ammut. He's swears he's willing to do anything."

Ammut furrowed his brow and cocked his head at the sky. "Any...?"

Bakura gave his mind a few minutes to wander before prompting, "Well?"

"I want..." Ammut smiled dreamily. "To stab him four... no, seven... no, two. I want to stab him twice." Bakura's toy was too fragile for seven right off the bat. Not with the way Bakura coddled him. The toy would likely be in shock after the fifth.

Bakura chuckled at the specificity. "Twice you say."

Ammut's fingers tickled up Bakura's side, finding the spaces between his ribs. "Once in each lung. A body stubbornly drowning itself in its own blood is a beautiful thing, Bakura."

Bakura frowned. It wasn't so much about distaste for what Ammut was implying. It was more that what Ammut was implying didn't make any sense. "You want to kill him."

"Just once. To see his face." Ammut's eyes widened as a realization occurred to him. A wonderful, exciting, enticing realization. "You've never killed him before?" Ammut groaned. "He wouldn't even understand what was happening. Oh, gods, I haven't seen that kind of pain and terror since the first time I killed my little thing." Ammut stopped walking, dropping to his knees and grabbing Bakura's wrist. "You have to let me do it! You _have_ to! I want to pop his little death cherry!"

Bakura growled and yanked his hand away. "Get up, idiot," he hissed. "And stop yelling." The feral light faded from Ammut's eyes as he sat back with his butt between his feet. He cocked his head, looking for all the world like a dog trying to figure out why he'd been reprimanded. Bakura sighed. "Yours isn't a separate soul."

Ammut looked even more puzzled. "No?"

"You share a soul room. You must share a soul. Yadonushi and I do not. There's no guarantee that whatever keeps your other half 'alive' also applies to my host. So, no, you cannot 'kill' him."

Ammut stared at the sidewalk as he thought about his other options. Then he snorted and crossed his arms. "If he gets to spend alone time with mine, then I want as much alone time with him."

"That would be fair," Bakura admitted, "but he'll never agree to that."

Ammut grinned. "Too bad." He pushed himself to his feet.

They walked in silence for a while as Bakura reconsidered his approach. Giving yadonushi another thing that Bakura could take away at a moment's notice was too convenient to pass up. "Do you know why yours is so stubborn?"

Ammut shrugged. "Do I care?"

"You do," Bakura smirked. "It drives you crazy, and not in the fun way. Don't tell me I'm wrong."

Ammut growled. Bakura was right. Bakura was right a lot.

Taking the silence as the acknowledgement it was, Bakura continued, "It's because he doesn't have anything left to lose. When all you do is take things away, people have no reason grovel for you. When all a person knows is suffering, he forgets to miss being happy." He glanced up sideways and found Ammut staring at him curiously. Good. "Of course we can't simply give them what they want. That extra friend will be all the more precious if yadonushi has to suffer to get him. It's called the 'sunk cost fallacy.'" Bakura shrugged. "So, feel free to get creative, but bear in mind that it must be something he will agree to."

Ammut worked through Bakura's words slowly. Bakura could be as long-winded as he was right. He didn't like the idea of making his little thing happy, but if it was a step toward making him miserable later it might be interesting to see how it worked out. Bakura had a lot of ideas that started out strange and turned out to be interesting. "I want..." So many things. How to choose? He bit his lip. "I want..." He grinned. "I want to see you do something really awful to yours. The worst thing you can do."

"Me. Really." It was Bakura's turn to think about his options. "All right." He nodded. "I'll do it. But that hardly seems like enough. What would you really get out of it?"

Right again. Oh, Bakura... Ammut spent the rest of the walk rolling in fantasies, trying to pick the best one.

Bakura dumped the phone in the parking lot as they approached the glowing doors. The hostess greeted them with an extra-forced smile until Bakura put on his best Ryou impression. All smiles and pleases and thank yous. The silly etiquette lessons Ryou had taught him in that first handful of years wearing the Ring, before Bakura had finished isolating and surpressing him entirely, came in very handy. Even if people side-eyed the six-plus-feet of muscle and wild hair following him around, a few polite words in a soft British accent were sufficiently disarming.

As they waited for their food, Bakura unfolded a napkin and pulled out a pen. "Boxes?" He asked.

Ammut scowled. "I hate that game."

"You'll never beat me if you refuse to practice."

"Fine. One round. And we have to play picture guess after."

Bakura smiled and nodded once before tapping out the grid of dots. A distraction from larceny. A distraction from eternity. Yep. If nothing else, Ammut was a fantastic distraction.

 


	7. Normal... ish...:Part 2

"I've got good news, yadonushi," Bakura said as he opened the door.

Ryou looked up from his book. He didn't quite dare to be hopeful yet. As it turned out, he was right to remain reserved.

"Well, good and bad," Bakura amended as he picked up a mini. "Is this one new?"

"It's the newest," Ryou answered as he closed his book and placed it on his lap. Losing his place didn't matter in here. Books always changed slightly, anyway, when he had to make up bits that he couldn't remember.

Bakura inspected the impeccably painted gold bangles on the figure's tiny arms. "It's a shame that you're so good at this," he said. He put the figure back where he'd found it and sat next to Ryou on the bed.

Ryou bit his lip as their shoulders touched.

"I thought about your request," Bakura said. "I decided that you've been such a good host, I'm willing to let you talk to the other hikari for free, on the condition that you continue to be a good host."

Ryou looked at the other albino's face. "Really?"

Bakura leaned back and braced his hands on the mattress. "Mhm," he nodded. "But then I talked to Ammut about it. I mean it is his hikari. I can't make unilateral decisions."

"Oh..." Ryou's shoulders hunched. "What did Ammut say?"

Bakura laughed. "Oh, he had quite a list of demands, as I'm sure you've guessed."

"Do I even want to know?" Ryou asked softly.

"Do you?" Bakura teased with a raised eyebrow.

Ryou sighed and nodded. It wouldn't hurt to hear him out, at least.

"I did manage to talk him down a bit," Bakura continued. "For now all he wants is for both of us to screw you at once."

Ryou's forehead wrinkled. "Don't... you already do that?"

"Not in the same hole," Bakura smirked.

Ryou blinked as the words sunk in. Then his eyes widened and his cheeks turned pink. "That... I can't do that," he protested.

Bakura shrugged. "It's still your choice, yadonushi. If you decide you'd rather not pay the price, things can continue forward as normal."

Ryou's heart thudded in his chest. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair for Ammut to make impossible demands. "You don't understand. I _can't_. Isn't there something else? What were his other demands?"

Bakura raised his eyebrows. "Well. He started out demanding one to one alone time with you for every minute you spend alone with his hikari. I didn't think you'd want to spend hours alone with him, but if that's your choice I could arrange it. I'm sure he would be thrilled."

Ryou finally decided to say it. "This isn't fair..."

Bakura shrugged again. "Maybe. But it's his hikari. Quite frankly, I think you're lucky he didn't give you a flat no. He's not nearly as understanding as I am."

The familiar pang of being hopelessly alone burned in Ryou's chest. "So every time I want to see him, I'd have to let you two..." the words stuck in his throat.

"We talked about that, too," Bakura said. "It would only be once. At least, in relation to this. I can't promise it would never come up ever again." Bakura watch Ryou tug anxiously at his hair, waiting patiently for his response. He really wasn't sure what to expect. Then Ryou hugged himself and Bakura knew what decision he'd reached.

"C-can I talk to him first?" Ryou asked without looking at the male sitting next to him. Twenty minutes of hell seemed like it could ultimately be worth it. He didn't want some nightmarish experience weighing on his mind while he was trying to enjoy himself, though.

"If you get what you want now, you won't be able to change your mind later."

Ryou swallowed. If he thought too hard about it, he'd start crying now. He was so sick of crying. All he could do was nod and shrug.

Bakura stroked the other male's hair. Such a soft, submissive little thing. "If you're sure. I'll tell Ammut."

Ryou followed him with his eyes as he left. He fiddled with the edge of his shirt, wondering which blond would walk through the door. The question was answered more quickly than he expected. It opened just long enough for the bronze hikari to stumble through, and then snapped shut.

As soon as he found his balance, Marik turned around and slammed his fist repeatedly against the door.

"It only opens when he wants it to," Ryou said in a low voice.

Marik whirled around. His hard gaze landed on the shy albino. Marik eyed him suspiciously, trying to sort out the trick.

"I'm..." Ryou swallowed. As strange as introducing himself by his given name felt, the name 'Bakura' was no longer his. "You can call me Ryou."

So that was the trick. Marik snorted and shoved his hands in his pockets.

Ryou bit his lip. He'd wanted to see the softness again. "May I know your name?" He asked hesitantly.

"No," Marik said.

Ryou flinched. He hadn't expected that. "Oh... okay... um..." he worried a few strands of hair. He didn't know how long he had. The Spirit had implied hours, but how many and consecutive or not, he didn't know. He should have asked.

Marik sighed and rolled his eyes. "It's nothing personal, okay? I don't believe in giving my name to demons." If he could consider himself lucky at all, it was because the Usurper hadn't cared to pursue the issue. At least that abominable doppelganger wasn't walking around wearing his name the way he wore his body.

"I'm not..." Ryou trailed off.

"You'd tell Bakura," Marik said. "You wouldn't want to, but if you knew, and he asked, you would tell him."

Ryou looked at his socks. The other hikari wasn't wrong. "I'd like to call you something," he said. "You could make something up."

Marik huffed his bangs out of his face and shook his head slowly. "Namu?" He finally shrugged.

Ryou's expression brightened a notch. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Namu. I'm, um, sorry if I'm not very good at this. I haven't spoken to anyone but the Spirit for a very long time. Um, except for Ammut, I suppose, but that's... I'm sure you know how that is better than I do... um..."

Marik snorted again. "I don't talk to either of them at all if I can help it."

"You don't get lonely?" Ryou asked.

"Being alone is better than the company I'm stuck with," Marik scowled.

Ryou tugged at his hair. "I guess I'd feel the same if the Spirit was more like Ammut."

Marik's gaze wandered to the table in the middle of the room, but he kept his back pressed against the door. The soul room was much smaller and more cluttered than he would've liked. "They're both awful," he snorted.

"I know... but the Spirit..." Ryou trailed off. He wasn't sure how to explain their weird relationship to anyone else. He'd barely thought about it himself before. "He's complicated..."

Marik looked at Ryou again. Part of him felt sorry for the little wimp. It did. But how could he be so irritatingly passive all the time? "Why? Because he's gentle sometimes? I'd say they're equally bad, but at least the Usurper... Ammut... Whatever the hell he's calling himself. At least he's up front about what he is. The dishonesty is worse."

"It's not like that," Ryou started to protest, and then stopped. He didn't want to spend an hour justifying the Ring Spirit's behavior. "I'm sorry. I didn't really want to talk about them."

"What do you want?" Marik asked.

Ryou hunched his shoulders. "I was hoping you'd like games. I don't know."

Marik's forehead wrinkled. "You have games in here?"

"A few. The ones I remember the rules for. And, um..." He looked at the diorama. "A single player variation of Monster World that I... made up... It could be two players, if you wanted, though."

Marik scanned the room again. "How do you have so much creative freedom in your soul room? Doesn't Bakura control everything?"

"He controls the door, and his will is stronger than mine, but he doesn't usually bother arguing with me over details... I think he likes seeing the new figurines." Ryou paused. "He used to play games with me, but lately he's been so busy with Ammut..."

From the moment the Usurper had sprung from the doors of Marik's subconscious, he'd wrenched control of the majority of Marik's mental being. "Can you do something about the clutter?" He asked.

Ryou looked around. He'd never thought about it before, but the room was a bit of a mess. The diorama took up a lot of space. Every other available surface was covered with buildings and people and animals he hadn't finished yet. He gathered up the majority of his sculpting and painting materials and put them into the various drawers and bins he used to sort them. Then he opened what he liked to call the Closet of Holding and shoved everything into the indistinct void beyond. After a moment of thought, he shoved his crafting desk and his bed into the closet as well.

Marik watched, fascinated. He'd seen the Usurper use the door to his subconscious to store and retrieve things, but Marik had never really gotten a chance to experiment with it himself. The Usurper had already begun asserting control by the time Marik figured out what it was. "How do you get things back?"

"Hm? Oh, I..." Ryou blushed when he realized Namu looked faintly impressed. "I think of what I want and just..." He vaguely mimed pulled something out of the void. "It has to be something I have a solid memory of, and it only works on objects, but..."

Marik eyed the door. He wondered if Ammut was keeping him away from his own door on purpose, or if he simply got a sadistic kick out of leaving Marik tied up all the time. But Ryou had been perfecting his control over his soul room for a long time, it seemed. He wondered if he might one day convince Ryou to help him do something about Ammut. If only the albino waif wasn't so weak-willed... "What's your favorite game?" Marik asked.

"Monster World," Ryou answered nervously.

"Teach me how to play," Marik smiled back.

Ryou grinned. He hadn't played proper Monster World in a long time. "I'll get my books." A one person party wasn't really a proper party and an hour was barely enough time to get through character creation, but it was so _nice_ to talk to someone that didn't scare him. Maybe this could become a regular thing. Maybe they could work their way through a short, simple campaign one hour at a time.

The basic rules didn't take long to explain. Each character had abilities with numerical values that could modify dice rolls. When they got to races and classes, however, Marik found himself swept up in examining Ryou's minis. Ryou had names and histories for all of them. Ragnoth the Orc Cleaver. The wise and compassionate Delisar. Erin the farm boy, his mother Arlin, and Diddle the barn cat that kept the mice out of the grain after harvest. He talked about all of them with the whimsical nostalgia of old friendships. Gods, the poor kid really must have been lonely.

"Time!" Ammut announced as the door flew open.

Ryou's face went ashen. "A-already?" He stammered.

Bakura leaned against the door and crossed his arms. "I'm afraid so, yadonushi," he said calmly.

Ammut grabbed the shoulder of Ryou's shirt and yanked him to his feet. He drew the speculum in his hand across Ryou's throat like a knife. "Yes, time. Time to pay up," he hissed, and then giggled.

Ryou squeezed his eyes shut and shuddered. He'd agreed to this. That didn't mean he didn't feel like throwing up. It would hurt as much as Ammut could make it hurt. He was terrified.

Pay up? Pay up for what? Marik looked to Bakura for a clue. When he saw Bakura staring back, he scowled.

"Would you like an audience, or shall we put him away?" Bakura asked without taking his eyes off Ammut's hikari.

Ammut turned his attention to his hikari. He'd almost forgotten about him. He licked his teeth. "Fuck him. Get on with it."

"You better undress, yadonushi," Bakura said. "He's been rabid for you all day."

Ryou panted as his vision blurred. "Give- give me a m-minute to-"

"It's always stalling with you." Ammut shoved the little thing on the floor. "Wait a second, wait a minute, wait an hour. Wait, wait, wait. No. I won't _fucking_ wait." He grabbed the cuffs of Ryou's pants. Ryou was bare from the waist down in one, hard yank.

Marik started to stand up, but pale hands grabbed his shoulders and forced him to sit. Bakura tied Marik to the chair with Ryou's pants as Marik watched the Usurper force Ryou onto his belly. Then Bakura turned the chair to face a wall and all Marik could do was listen.

Ammut crouched over the smaller body and grabbed the mane of white hair. "I'm going to open you up and let out all of your screams," he breathed, voice husky with excitement.

Ryou watched the long, metal device with wide eyes. Ammut was going to torture him before he tortured him. "That- that wasn't... part..." His eyes darted frantically to the Spirit as he approached. "Spirit..."

"We'll never get two cocks up your ass without stretching you first." Bakura's tone remained even and smooth as he joined Ammut on the floor. "It's necessary."

Ryou squeezed his eyes shut and tugged at his hair. They both loomed over him now. One straddling each of his splayed legs. "I want you to do it, Spirit," he whimpered. The Spirit wasn't wrong, after all, but Ryou knew Ammut would be intentionally cruel. One of the first things Ammut had said to him had been that he was nothing but an empty vessel to fill with pain. No amount of begging or obeying or promises on Ryou's part had ever altered that.

"I'm not the one you have to pay, yadonushi. I'm just here to be the second cock."

The second dick... If everything else about the situation hadn't been so horribly and distinctly _not_ funny, Marik might have laughed. They were dicks. A pair of massive dicks.

"Please!" Ryou begged. "I'll be good, I'll be so good!"

Ammut groaned. "I get so hard when he begs."

"I warned you about changing your mind," Bakura said. "It's too late now."

Something cold and slick and hard entered Ryou's body. He pressed his face against the floor. It was already large enough to be uncomfortable. Then Ammut started opening it. Ryou gasped, shivering. He wanted a pillow to hug, a blanket to hide under, anything besides the hard, bare floor. He fumbled behind him until he felt the Spirit's knee and squeezed that instead. The Spirit wasn't always on his side, but the Spirit was also all he had. When the Spirit wordlessly squeezed his hand, Ryou almost felt a bit better. Except for the pain. Ammut wasn't going slowly at all and it hurt, it hurt, it hurt.

Ammut stopped turning the screw to run a finger tip around the inner rim of the hole. The toy cried out and flinched. Muscles twitched and pulsed in the shadows of his body. Ammut pressed three fingers inside, feeling them move. Three fingers wouldn't be enough. It would need to be at least wide enough to get Bakura's fist comfortably inside. Ammut knew precisely how much Bakura's fist hurt. His breath quivered as he thought about inflicting that same pain on this weak little thing. This little thing that was too weak to take pain the same way Ammut did. Oh, gods... oh, god of pain... Ammut squeezed and scratched the pale rounds of flesh flanking the hole as he released his erection. He fondled himself as he turned the screw some more. Until the toy let out the most beautiful wail.

Precum drooled on the back of Ryou's thigh. Oh, dear, no, this was going to be awful! What had he been thinking? Why had he agreed to this? Why had he been so desperate that he'd insisted on seeing Namu first? Ryou's free hand clawed at the floor. His eyes were wide and glassy.

Ammut tested the size of the hole with his hand. He had to tuck his thumb under his palm, but it was probably wide enough now. He stroked the quivering wall of delicate flesh with his knuckles. He thought about using his nails, about shredding the toy from the inside out, and he would've done it if he thought Bakura would let him.

Bakura watched Ammut's face as he explored Ryou's bowels. The dead eyes gleamed. His mouth hung open and his tongue played absentmindedly across his teeth and lips like it had a mind of its own. He still had his cock squeezed in his other fist, but he was too deep in whatever demented lust had a hold of him to stroke it. The hand squeezing Bakura's tightened until it shook. The little thing was so much Bakura's that he even reached out to him when Bakura was the one letting the horrible things happen.

Ammut wished the toy could see what he looked like all forced open and writhing. It was beautifully horrific. People always made such fascinating faces and sounds when faced with their own innards. The glossy, slippery, vital, purple, red, and pink mess inside.

When Ammut finally finished playing with Ryou's insides, Bakura squeezed a generous amount of lube around rim of Ryou's back entrance. Then a delicate finger spread it around, working it under the edges of the metal device. He applied more and Ammut watched with quiet fascination as it dribbled inside.

The toy made a low, sobbing sound and Ammut decided he was ready. He pulled the speculum out without closing it. The little thing yelped and curled in on himself. He stayed in that face-down huddled as the pair of yamis stood up and undressed. The toy didn't move at all until Ammut sat on the floor and pulled him into his lap. He pulled the slim hips toward his belly and forced the toy to sit on his dick. Gripping the pale face between his hands, he laid himself down.

Bracing himself on his arms, Ryou stared at the wild, violet eyes. The wide grin. He would've turned his face away, but the hands imprisoning his head wouldn't let him. He sensed Bakura kneeling behind him. Heard the _shlick shlick_ as Bakura slathered himself with lube. No way this would work. No way. The stretching made Ammut's cock barely comfortable, but...

"Open yourself for me, yadonushi," Bakura said.

Ryou spread his cheeks with both hands. The Spirit's first couple of attempts to enter him missed and slid up along his tailbone instead. Maybe it wouldn't work. If it didn't work, they couldn't hold him to the deal. Could they? Oh, please, please don't work! He felt the Spirit push. Push again. Then he screamed as the tip sank in.

Ammut sighed, shuddering with ecstasy. His fingers fisted in white hair as he watched agony consume the toy's face. He laughed. The laugh morphed into another moan as Bakura wedged himself deeper. "Fuck, yes, fuck, fuck, yes, ah..." He trailed off into another breathy laugh.

Ryou almost collapsed on the muscular chest. The only reason he didn't was the hands in his hair holding his head up.

"Fuck him," Ammut hissed.

"No," Ryou sobbed.

"Fuck him hard..." Ammut groaned.

"Wait, please, wait, wait..." Ryou begged. Ammut's hips lurched up and Ryou screamed again. "Let me do it, please, I'll do it, let me do it!"

One of the toy's tears splashed on Ammut's face. He bucked again. Sliding against Bakura in the tight, convulsing heat of the little thing's body.

"Do you want to wait, or do you want it to be over?" Bakura asked.

"I don't know," Ryou sniffled. "I want- I want- just... slow... I want to do it, I want to do it slow..."

Ammut squirmed impatiently under the toy. "Fuck this! Fuck him!" He thrust upwards for emphasis, and then kept thrusting. Bakura varied between matching his strokes and alternating with his strokes, and the toy wailed himself horse, and Bakura panted, and it was all too fucking amazing.

Ultimately, Ammut came first. Bakura felt the liquid fill Ryou, leak out, and glaze both of their cocks. Ammut's chest heaved as he relaxed to to catch his breath. Bakura slowed to a stop. "You may finish me now, yadonushi."

Finish... finish... Ryou pushed himself up on shaky arms. He hurt so much that he'd almost gone numb. Salty residue cracked on his face as he rocked backwards, riding both of them at a slow, stuttering pace.

"That's not good enough, yadonushi."

Ryou tried to rock faster, but the angle was odd and it hurt too much.

Bakura huffed an exaggerated sigh. "See? You can't do it. Now hold still." And he laid into his hikari as forcefully as he wanted until he also finished.

Ryou pulled himself forward. He didn't care when he collapsed with his face buried in Ammut's neck. Out. Out, they were out! The relief overwhelmed him. He never, ever wanted to do that again. He hoped what the Spirit had said about it being a one-off stayed true. Otherwise he'd never see Namu again. He hoped he'd get to see Namu again...

Bakura rolled Ryou into the space between him and Ammut and held the little thing close like he always did. When he looked up from the tangled mane of white, he saw Ammut watching him across Ryou's head. Bakura scooted closer, dragging Ammut into the embrace as well. "Yadonushi..." Bakura began as he stared into Ammut's eyes. Then he looked down to meet Ryou's gaze. "Do you think your father ever wonders what happened to you?"

At first the non-sequitur confused Ammut. He felt the body between them freeze. Rigidly still. He watched the brown eyes widen as the pupils shrank. The little thing's mouth moved like he was struggling to form a response. He only managed a tiny, broken sound before he started weeping harder than Ammut had ever seen him weep. Different than pain. Different than fear. Deep sadness and despair.

Bakura winked at Ammut. Ammut that could only understand physical pain and suffering. Ammut that looked faintly baffled, and then darkly amused. Bakura grinned. The cruelest thing he could do to their poor toy. Make him think of his father.

Ryou's sobs were the only sound in the soul room as the pair of monsters came down from their afterglow. Marik squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to think of his own family. He could not let Bakura see him cry. There was a very real chance Bakura could put two and two together. That was not information he wanted Bakura to have.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I was just going through my computer finishing up some chapters I'd started writing, and then put down to work on other things. Now that I'm finished with that, I can get back to Card Games on Mattresses.


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